Charles Burchfield, Journals, October 26, 1914

After yesterday’s entry Travis + I by mistake at 8:00 to Depot to meet Joe, coming from a weekend trip home. Joe arrived at 9:03 bringing a lunch for three.  I get Travis.

 Travis and I in a discussion on the origin of life and conception of God till 12:00. Travis’ philosophy is a sort of  mongrel between agnosticism and Christianity; that is he attempts to reconcile his theories with Christianity which is impossible.

When in bed the futility of such arguments forced itself upon me; I was nervous and my mind seemed chaotic.

Today opens dark - unusually dark with a strong wind from the north; which resolved into a rainy morning - a clear sparkling rain dashing. Rain ceases at noon and afternoon is cold and windy with white-rifted cloud-rolls tearing out the Northern Lake. I could not concentrate my mind on my work. Once or twice I went outdoors and swelled with the cold buoyancy of the day. 

 Leaves shooting streak like thru the air! Leaf-cyclones capering in whirling course aver the emerald grass! Half-naked trees wind riddled: Towards close of school while looking out of window I was delighted to note on the shot like wind streaked ever the flattened grass, the gloss spots of the rippling blades appearing like finely sifting snow! At 3:30 thru Park to room.  A sleet shower wind whistled. Thence to Library afoot.  I walk head high + chest out exultant in the wind.

 Remembering the purpose of my walk, I pondered on the abun­dance of my discussion on God recently.  After all, I concluded I am not here to ponder on the orgin or destiny of (page torn out and next seven words written in later handwriting) life.

Downtown a sparkle of wind cleared-
lights glittering with cold! The world is mine.

After supper homeward by Euclid Avenue.  A wild night. Sky black with great misshapen cloud masses of wind-cold white clouds, with sparkling stars between - southward the clouds, lower sides glared red by the furnaces up sides lit by the cold yellow of the half-moon – cold coat tearing wind roaring the trees.

Pass a drunken fellow, who asks me if he is on his way to 105th  I said yes and jocosely added that he would be wiser to take a car.  No money he fumblingly told me, he wanted five cents so he could ride; he never drank himself but his partner got him drunk.

Instead I gave him a ticket and directed him to the car.  I was surprised that I suffered no sense of repulsion from the meeting, tho he was unclean and wobbly. He was so intensely human. It seemed as tho I myself had once been thru his plight and thus felt sympathy for him.

Thru Penn Square Carnival.  A glitter of lights. Metro­politan red orange + blue.  A window of flowers orange + blue.

In Euclid Villa to see Dewey.

Charles E. Burchfield, Oct 26, 1914